


Such a Disgrace

by FudgingPastry



Series: That God AU [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katisk has a fight with Thavma in their head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Such a Disgrace

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Revised this so it's clearer to know who's talking when.

“I am old where you are motherfucking _not._ ”

You snarl at their face. They do not flinch and they do not waver and it fills you with rage. You want to grab them and shake them and scream in their face until they bow to you. But their gaze holds you in place, their voice silent but you do not need to hear their voice to know what they say to you. They do not need to speak in order to tell you _what a motherfucking disgrace you are._

“I’ve been around for longer than you ever have been! I am the last of us and I will survive,” You shout into their face and as they square their shoulders, you can see yourself reflected in them. You can motherfucking see the pieces of them that became you after centuries and new cycles. You snarl because they stand tall compared to your slouch and you feel like Kurloz again. You feel thin and small and weak and _very motherfucking angry._ You try to rise up and you try to stare at them, eye to eye, but they still stand taller than you. They will always be motherfucking taller than you.

You can see the mistakes you’ve made since you were them. You can see the mistakes you will make as you are now and you do not give one flying fuck.

“Why do you torment me? I am older and I am stronger and I am wiser than you have ever been!” You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your voice breaks. They give you one beat of silence before they laugh. It’s a loud bark of noise and it shocks you to your core. As the noise dies off, they stride forward, their gaze pointed down at you as they finally speak.

“Do not equate age with wisdom. I may be a quarter of our age, but I was wise. I knew my creation intimately where you watch them from a throne. Your throne of old stems and broken branches and yet you still sit upon it and call yourself messiah. I was humble enough to know lovers and friends. I was compassionate to call them that. You,” they pause and their gaze softens and you see age in those eyes. Tired, old, familiar age that sits like a stone in your gut and makes your bitter mouth frown.

“You have nothing.” The coldness of their voice seeps into your flesh and you wrap your arms around your body and try not to shiver. “You push aside the things that come to you and you call yourself bitter. You call what you do surviving. You do not face disease nor flame, flood, or cold. What you do, I would not call it surviving.”

“Oh? And what would you call it, oh great and powerful Thavma, God of Life and Death?” You snap back, but your voice holds none of its strength from before. When they speak again, their voice is sharper than the blades you sometimes hold to your skin.

“If you do not learn to hold back your mockery of our shared name, it may be _wise_ of you to cut out your tongue.” They turn away from you and leave you to sit in the darkness of your heart, their voice ever echoing against the walls.

“I would call it ceasing. Such a motherfucking disgrace.”


End file.
